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All l mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings, only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don’t know why either except that the strings are all in one another’s way.

William Faulkner

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Teach yourself by your own mistakes; people learn only by error.
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Writing a first draft is like trying to build a house in a strong wind.
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The salvation of the world is in man’s suffering.
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A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station….
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The ideal woman which is in every man’s mind is evoked by a word or phrase or the shape of her wrist, her hand.
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She was the captain of her soul
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The young writer would be a fool to follow a theory. Teach yourself by your own mistakes; people learn only by error.
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Now she hates me. I have taught her that, at least.
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All l mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings, only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don’t know why either except that the strings are all in one another’s way.
WILLIAM FAULKNER

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The past is never dead. It’s not even past. All of us labor in webs spun long before we were born, webs of heredity and environment, of desire and consequence, of history and eternity.
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And sure enough, even waiting will end…if you can just wait long enough.
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I’d have wasted a lot of time and trouble before I learned that the best way to take all people, black or white, is to take them for what they think they are, then leave them alone.
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He must train himself in ruthless intolerance-that is to throw away anything that is false no matter how much he might love that page or that paragraph.
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My own experience has been that the tools I need for my trade are paper, tobacco, food, and a little whisky.
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I think that no one individual can look at truth. It blinds you. You look at it and you see one phase of it.
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Because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.
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